Here Today, Gone Tomorrow
by sugarplumdreams
Summary: Hook hallucinates Emma during his year away in the Enchanted Forest.


A/N: Written after 3.11 Going Home for "The Year Without Emma." Inspired by this gifset on Tumblr: post/72263363578/cs-au-in-the-enchanted-forest-hook-has (use my URL located on my profile and place after)

* * *

"Pssst."

He doesn't say anything, barely even moves at the sound of the voice.

"You can't stay here forever," the voice sighs quietly after a moment.

It's husky, a little rough around the edges albeit feminine — a voice made for dark evenings, pleasure laden words and whispered promises of forever. His shoulders tense at the thought, the only sign he's even conscious.

"I know you can hear me."

Indeed…and that was the entirety of the problem, wasn't it?

"Hook," she says firmly.

His heart squeezes in his chest at the sound of his name on her lips, but he keeps his eyes closed. "Go away."

"I can't," she replies.

He thinks he can feel the light brush of her hand over his arm, intended to be a comforting gesture. He is far from comforted.

"Go away," he repeats.

"You won't let me."

He imagines her soft, knowing smile and his stomach clenches before it grows eerily still and quiet around him. Words echo faintly in his mind.

_"For someone who's never been in love, you're quite perceptive."_

_"Maybe I was…once."_

He doesn't fall back asleep after, just waits for the dawn to break then begrudgingly packs his belongings and makes his way back down the beanstalk.

* * *

"Do you think we would have met had the curse not come to pass?"

He's standing on the balcony of her nursery, eyeing his ship as it sways gently in the harbor and contemplates her question.

"I don't know," he tells her truthfully.

When he turns, her bright green eyes are alight with amusement. Everything inside of him aches.

"I think so," she says, her fingers grazing along the hat of a doll mounted on a pedestal beside her crib.

It looks oddly like a naval officer and stands a few feet from another doll, a knight. They seem to stand guard over where she would have rested as a baby. It's strange and…fitting, all things considering.

"Why is that?" he asks curiously, arms crossing over his chest as he leans his hip against the doorframe.

She tucks her hair behind her ear and he tries to ignore the tingling of his fingertips, simultaneously itching to do it for her and remembering how exactly those silken locks had felt when he had cradled her head as they kissed in Neverland. He sighs — it seems like only yesterday.

"Because," she smiles.

She leaves it at that, but he can fill in the rest and his chest feels heavy. "Emma-"

"Find me," she cuts in, and her voice is strong, patient, insistent.

She goes as quickly as she comes and everything inside of him aches. _Damn her._

* * *

They worry about him, he knows they do, but he merely ignores the questioning looks and concerned glances every time he slips away. He doesn't care. So what if he sees her when she's not there? So what if he has full conversations with a phantom? He wants what he can't have, so he takes what he can get.

"It's okay to let other people care about you."

He raises the flask in his hand to his lips, but doesn't drink from it. "You're one to talk," he says irritably.

"I let _you_ care about me."

She says it matter-of-factly, and he's not looking at her, but he knows her well enough to know that she's crossed her arms and quirked her brow at him — challengingly. He gives a wry laugh, toasting to her bitterly before lifting the flask once more. Her hand stops him from drinking from it.

"Stop," she says quietly.

The look in her eyes makes him feel ashamed. "I don't want to," he answers and his heart lodges itself into his throat. "It numbs the pain."

Her fingers reach out to brush back the hair falling over his brow. She's never done it before and he stares up at her with confused, wonderstruck eyes. She smiles gently and he resists the urge to reach out and touch her.

"Pain tells you that you're alive, reminds you that you have purpose. You know that," she tells him. "Channel it…like you did before."

He presses his lips together, eyes moving over the planes of her face. He caps the flask and sets it aside.

* * *

"You would come back here," she snorts, amusement coloring her tone.

He leans against the tree with his eyes closed, remembering the bite of the rope around his body and the gleam of the blade pointed at his throat.

"I've no clue what you mean." He smirks as he says it though.

"Blacksmith my ass," she mumbles.

_"Good for you! You bested me, I can count the amount of people who've done that on one hand."_

_"Is that supposed to be funny?"_

His smile grows wider.

* * *

"You didn't actually believe you were done with me, did you?"

"I did," he responds.

"The scorned ex-boyfriend," she chuckles, her boots clicking as she walks around the cell. "It was quite a speech, did you rehearse it?"

_"Do you know what this is, Emma?"_

_"The bean that the giant kept!"_

_"Uh-uh, uh! Yes indeed…a pirate always keeps a souvenir of his conquests, but this, this is much more than a mere trinket. This is a symbol…something that was once magical and full of hope, possibility — now look at it, dried up and dead, useless…much like you. The time for making deals is done, just as I'm done, with _**_you_**_."_

He rolls his eyes from where he's leaning against the rock, much like he had the first time around. "_No._"

She smiles because she knows he's lying, but doesn't press on the matter. "I owe you an apology."

"As do I," he answers.

"I'm sorry for leaving you."

He knows she means the beanstalk, but all he sees is the deep purple smoke that envelopes them as the undone curse brings them back to this land and his throat closes up. When he glances up at her, she's gone.

* * *

"How long are you going to keep doing this?"

He rolls his eyes, keeps skipping rocks into the lake. "Doing what?"

"Brooding."

"I'm a master brooder, I've had 300 years of practice." He grunts as he throws a rock, almost frustratedly, and when it simply hits the water with a resounding plop, he turns his eyes accusingly to her. "How long are you going to plague my thoughts? Haunt my very existence?"

This time she rolls her eyes and there's a pang in his heart when he realizes he quite misses the gesture.

"You know how long," she replies, and her tone is clipped.

He curses, moving from the log he sits on to stand and stare out at the water lapping against the shoreline.

"I've no bloody way to reach you," he shoots back, his expression pained. "They tell me I need a portal but there's no one in this entire fucking realm who has one!"

"You'll find one."

She sounds so sure he almost believes her. She sounds so close, he turns his head towards her.

"You are the most determined, tenacious man I've ever met, and my father is Prince Charming."

He chuckles at that and the tension eases just a little from his shoulders. He sighs as he looks at her — a face he knows so well and a heart so far away.

_"I didn't know you had such a soft side."_

_"I don't…I just like a fair fight."_

"I miss you," he says softly, giving in to a moment of weakness. He doesn't care, he wants her to know.

"Me too." She curves her lips up and the look reminds him of the last time they were parted.

This time, when she goes, his resolve is renewed and he vows that he'll never be parted from her again.

_Fin_


End file.
